


Shorthand

by obscureshipyard



Series: Hydra Husbands [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Emotionally tone deaf Brock Rumlow, Fix-It of Sorts, Gay Panic, Idiots in Love, Jack being Jack, M/M, POV Brock, but not severe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27777553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscureshipyard/pseuds/obscureshipyard
Summary: Does everyone know about Rumlow and Rollins? Yes... expect for Rumlow.Could be read as a standalone, but better if you read Part 1 - Lover, Hunter, Friend, and Enemy, takes place two months after the events of Part 1
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Hydra Husbands [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032084
Kudos: 24





	Shorthand

Brock spun the water bottle around in his hand. Jack had passed it to him without a word as the larger man took his place on the mat. The team was running drills today, hand to hand, Brock’s favorite. He didn’t pull any punches during drills and all of the Alpha STRIKE team knew it.

It was the adrenaline, the challenge. He got so swept up in the fights he forgot things like water bottles and towels to wipe the sweat and blood from his face. Jack always remembered. He always brought enough for them both.

Just like he remembered Brock’s coffee in the morning, piping hot with a tablespoon of coconut oil. They'd been waking up together nearly every morning for the last two months. Since that drunken night and a very memorable blowjob in the morning, they had practically been attached at the hip.

It wasn't a big change. Brock relied heavily on his second in command, and Jack always came through. They gravitated close to each other since the moment they were assigned together.

The higher-ups of both Hydra and SHIELD took note of it and used it to their advantage for years. There had never been a whiff of them being assigned to other teams. After a decade of partnership, the message was clear: Brock and Jack were a package deal.

But that morphed into something different these past two months. Brock realized his hamper was filled with clothes too large for him. He found vegemite in his pantry that looked like it had been there a while, and that Aussie garbage sure as hell wasn't his. Brock stared at the water bottle in his hands like it might be able to explain things.

Jack laid Westphal out on the mat with a thump. The group cheered as the younger man yielded to Jack. Brock caught the slight upward tilt of Jack's lips as he moved off the mat and took his place inches from Brock's right side.

That small twitching of lips was the closest Jack would get to showing emotions in public. Other than switching between murderous and resting bitch face, Jack's expression didn't change out in public.

But Brock knew what it looked like when Jack smiled. A real, goofy grin when he was happy. He knew what Jack's laugh sounded like, too. He knew Jack's Australian accent seeped through, just a little, when he was overly tired or after talking on the phone with his sister for a few hours.

The next match started, and everyone's attention was on the brawling pair. Expect for Brock's.

"What's wrong, boss?" Jack's voice was quiet. He didn't look at Brock as he spoke, still feigning attention to the match.

"Locker room, now." Brock barely spoke above a whisper. He turned on his heel and stalked off. Jack followed behind him, silent as a shadow, and just as close.

Brock felt him there, right behind as the locker room door thudded closed. He didn't feel trapped or stalked. It was always a comfort to have Jack at his back. Brock cursed himself for being so blind.

"We're a couple." He dropped the words between them. Jack's face stayed calm and expressionless, but Brock could practically hear the gears turning in the other man's head.

"Yes." Jack said. His flat response had Brock reeling.

"This ain't news to you." He said with what he wished was intimidating authority, but what was probably more of a whine.

"No." Jack replied. It made Brock want to shout until his voice echoed off the locker room walls.

"People know we're-- like, they _know_." He fought the urge to drag his hands through sweat drenched hair. He felt like pacing, hitting something. He felt like going another round on the mats. In a fight things made sense.

"Yes." Jack said again.

"Cut it with the monosyllabic answers, I'm freaking out here!" Brock wanted to grab Jack by the shoulders and shake him. He usually valued Jack's stoicism, but right now it just made Brock feel crazy.

Brock shoved himself back against the lockers, hitting his head hard against the metal. Pain made sense, pain didn't make him feel stupid or confused.

A warm hand pressed gently against Brock's jaw. It turned his head up, pulling Brock's focus to the man before him. When he spoke it was slow, every word clear and thought through.

"We've been working together for nearly ten years, had each other's backs and protected each other through everything--”

“Yeah, we work well together. We're a good team.” Brock interrupted. Jack sighed and continued. His body pressing close, holding Brock up against the lockers.

“I've met your mom, Brock, when have you ever introduced anyone to your mother?" Jack had both hands on Brock's shoulders. They both knew how the subject of his mother got Brock twisted up inside.

Jack had met her during one of her manic phases, all bright colors and joy. She told Brock after that she liked Jack’s calmness, that Brock needed someone in his life who was sturdy like that. Jack never gave Brock shit for any of it. He never used what he knew to belittle him or show pity.

"You've met my sister. She's only been to the states three times in her life and two of those times you were with us for most of her stay. We have keys to each other's apartments, we’re each other's emergency contacts. This didn't happen overnight." Jack held Brock still, keeping their eyes locked together.

"Fuck, what were you gonna do, wait til you proposed to explain this to me?" Brock’s face burned and his gut squeezed tight with shame. He lashed out, it felt better than feeling like an idiot.

"I wasn't going to propose." Jack said flatly, taking a small step back.

"Excuse me?" Brock chased after him. Where did Jack get off not wanting to propose? Brock valued himself enough to know he was worth more than being a side piece, an eternal ‘friend with benefits’.

"Brock, what would you have done if I showed you a ring? Got down on one knee?" Jack caught his eyes again, just as Brock felt a buzz of panic race through his veins. Married? To a guy? But it was Jack, but it was forever, but what if Jack died, or Brock died, or they got injured, or Hydra ordered them apart, or--

"Exactly. You'd have run and then I'd have to track you down and put a bullet in you for desertion." Jack’s words cut through the fog of anxiety.

"I mean, I wouldn't-- I--" Brock tried to recover.

"We're good together. People know we're good together, so what’s missing?" Jack grabbed Brock’s hand, he pressed down on the pulse point to keep Brock focused. It was a move Jack used before, on missions when things turned bloody and wrong, early mornings when Brock was shaking so hard from orgasm, he had to fight back the tears in his eyes. Jack’s fingers pressed down on Brock’s racing pulse to soothe him.

“I will never leave you Brock, not unless it’s in a body bag. You’re my commander, and my…” They had a silent battle between their eyes, _boyfriend_ sounded too juvenile and frivolous, _lover_ \-- hard pass, _significant other_ \-- too PC. They both rolled their eyes, but Jack filled in the gap. “You’re mine. I’m yours. That’s it.”

Brock stared at where their hands touched. He didn’t have words for shit like this. He liked Jack’s words just fine. _You’re mine. I’m yours._ So he used his body instead. Pulling Jack in he lifted his chin to kiss in a way that could maybe just be called gentle.

They stayed like that, hands entwined, lips enjoying each other until Brock’s heart rate slowed down. His eyelids felt heavy as Jack pulled away.

"Bet a blowjob in the showers would make you feel better." The taller man’s wicked smile promised he wasn’t kidding. It set a fire in Brock’s blood. Jack moved back in and down Brock’s jaw with heated kisses.

"They're gonna be finishing up drills soon." Brock hissed as Jack nipped at his neck with just the right amount of teeth.

"Better hurry then." Jack walked them towards the showers, pulling at Brock’s clothing along the way.


End file.
